Another Point of View
by LadyJaeza
Summary: The infamous insult at the Assembly Ball falls flat. As events change, our characters must learn to see things from another point of view. This takes them through a series of changes in their outlook and behavior that shifts how they view themselves and others. WARNING - This is a teaser chapter. The full story has been pulled for publication.


**_This story has now been pulled for (eventual) publication on Amazon. Under the terms of the Kindle Unlimited program (which allows members to read for free), I cannot post more than a small portion of it anywhere else. The segment below is the first three chapters posted of the original story and is here as a teaser. Thanks to all those who read and commented. - LadyJaeza_**

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_At the Assembly Ball_

Even though he had never been in this building before, the place Fitzwilliam Darcy occupied – leaning against a pillar in the lower-traffic area midway between the dance floor and the wall – was a familiar one. He found similar out of the way spots at any event he felt compelled to attend. While remaining aloof from the crowd, he could pretend to watch the dancing or whatever entertainment was scheduled. He would think over his private business and wish he were at home. Anyone who approached intending to strike up a conversation could usually be deterred by his cold glare.

Not so, Mr. Bingley. A friend of many years, at the moment, he also happened to be Darcy's host. Two years ago, he inherited a fortune from his tradesman father, along with instructions to lift the family's social status by purchasing an estate. Charles Bingley had begun, on Darcy's advice, by leasing one to get a feel for the responsibilities without incurring a great loss if he found they were not to his taste.

Darcy, an estate owner in his own right, had been convinced to join his friend for a visit and help him get settled in. This would not have been such a chore, but the household also included Bingley's grasping, social-climbing, husband-hunting twin sister and their catty older sister with her indolent drunkard of a husband.

There was little Miss Caroline Bingley would not do to secure a wealthy and/or titled husband. Darcy had been a favored target of hers for years because of his fine estate and equally fine family fortune, although he did lack the title that would have been icing on her cake. Because of his friendship with her brother, Darcy tolerated her company and frequent insinuations that they would make a good couple, but he was determined never to fall into her web. His lack of enthusiasm did not stop her from trying.

His place as Bingley's guest was why he was here at this noisy assembly ball this evening instead of enjoying a glass of brandy and a good book in the solitude of his room at Netherfield Park, Bingley's leased home. His host was _**determined**_ to attend and meet his new neighbors. Bingley's brother-in-law, Mr. Hurst, was attracted to the free-flowing alcohol usually available at such events, so he planned to attend, and his wife would come with him. Had Darcy chosen not to join them, Miss Bingley would have insisted it was her duty as hostess to remain behind and see to his comfort. That situation would have opened too many possibilities for her to claim some illicit event between them that she could use in a bid to force a marriage. Darcy felt it best to avoid even the appearance of impropriety, and so he had joined his friend at the ball, forcing Miss Bingley to attend as well.

On their arrival, Bingley had soon made himself acquainted with all the principal people in the room; he was lively and unreserved, looked forward to dancing, was angry that the ball closed so early, and talked of giving one himself at Netherfield. Darcy prayed _**that**_ event would not come to pass.

A bluff, boisterous local man, Sir William Lucas, was Master of Ceremonies. He dragged the group from Netherfield around the room, providing introductions willy-nilly. Darcy gave minimal responses to any greeting addressed to him and ignored anyone he could. He did not **want** to know these people. They were nothing to him.

To his dismay, Darcy did have a duty to his host. He took care of it as quickly as he could that evening by dancing once with Bingley's older sister, Mrs. Hurst, and once with Miss Caroline Bingley. At that point, he was done with dancing, despite any hints that he would be doing the company a favor since male partners were in short supply. That was hardly **his** problem to solve.

His friend did not share that opinion. Since they arrived, Bingley had danced every set, although he kept returning to the side of a lovely young woman of fine figure, golden-blonde hair and bright blue eyes. Despite her good looks, even she was obliged to sit out a set for lack of a partner and other women were less lucky than she. Bingley used this as an excuse to stand up for a second set with his lovely lady, Miss Jane Bennet. During the break between the two dances of the set he stepped to the side for a few moments to persuade Darcy to do his duty.

"Come, Darcy," said he, "I must have you dance. I hate to see you standing about by yourself in this stupid manner. You had much better dance."

"I certainly shall not. Dancing is a punishment, not something to be excited about."

"Darcy! Please, you must realize it is your duty as a gentleman to dance, particularly when few other men are present."

"I do not agree. I have no obligation to anyone here but you, as my host."

"Then as your host, I ask it of you as a favor. Please, ask a young woman to come and finish out the set with you. That is only one dance – half a set. Surely you can manage that."

"I could, but I will not. You know how I detest dancing unless I am particularly acquainted with my partner. At such an assembly as this, it would be insupportable. Your sisters are engaged, and there is not another woman in the room whom it would not be a punishment to me to stand up with."

"I would not be so fastidious as you are," cried Bingley, "for a kingdom! Upon my honor, I never met with so many pleasant girls in my life as I have this evening; and there are several of them you see uncommonly pretty."

"You are dancing with the only handsome girl in the room," said Darcy, looking at the eldest Miss Bennet.

"Oh! She is the most beautiful creature I ever beheld! But there is one of her sisters, Miss Elizabeth, sitting down just behind you. She is very pretty, and I dare say very agreeable. Do let me ask my partner to introduce you."

"Which do you mean?" and turning around, he looked for a moment at the woman who sat nearby, till catching her eye, he withdrew his own and coldly said: "She is tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me; I am in no humor at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men. You had better return to your partner and enjoy her smiles, for you are wasting your time with me."

Even as he said the words, Darcy realized he had gone well beyond the bounds of courtesy, but he had **intended** to shock his friend. It seemed he was successful. Bingley's eyes widened in surprise and his face colored with embarrassment at the comments, but he clearly feared to say anything more in case Darcy came out with something worse. With an apologetic look towards the woman, he turned and headed back to the dance floor.

To Darcy's surprise, Miss Elizabeth seemed largely unaffected by his insult. In fact, she smiled and shook her head as if she was fondly viewing some wayward child. It was an unusual response. Then she stood and walked towards him.

"_Now I am in for it_," he thought. He was not in the mood for a dressing down by an unhappy and insulted female, but he could see no way out. He would have to hear her out. Darcy braced himself for an emotional scene. To his surprise, Miss Elizabeth spoke quietly and calmly once she was near enough to be heard over the music and the crowd.

"I had heard of your arrogance before this, Mr. Darcy, but was withholding my judgment until I saw your behavior for myself. Clearly the rumors understated the truth."

Darcy looked at her with distaste and some surprise. "Why should I perform and pander to you or anyone else?"

She smiled slightly. "Ah, so that is how you view the exercise of simple civility – pandering to people. No wonder…"

"What do you mean?" he interrupted, asking in spite of himself. "Is it so terrible not to want to dance?"

"No, but that is a different point entirely from the question of your attitude and behavior this evening. However, this _**is**_ an Assembly ball, the main point of which is dancing. I assume you knew what kind of event it was before you arrived. So, why come to a _**dance**_ if you have no intention of _**dancing**_?"

To himself he admitted this was a valid question, but aloud he replied testily, "I owe _**you**_ no explanation of my choices. However, I will say that as a guest in Mr. Bingley's home, I came to support my friend on his first foray into local _**society**_." He spat out the last word with disgust.

She lifted an eyebrow disbelievingly. "Truly? If your behavior this evening is any indication of how you support your friends, I will be happy never to be counted among their number."

Taken aback, he said stiffly, "I have not the pleasure of understanding you, Miss…" He trailed off, deliberately pretending not to know her name.

Without any trace of upset, she said, "Ah, there you go again. If you had paid any attention to the introductions earlier or to your friend's words just a few moments ago you would know, at the least, that my family name is Bennet. Of course, you _**do**_ know and are being deliberately insulting again. What _**I**_ would like to know is why you see fit to insult people who have done no wrong to you or even met you before? For instance, just now, when your friend was trying to cajole you to dance in what I would agree was a very annoying manner, you could have simply asked him to leave you alone. Instead, you chose to embarrass him by loudly insulting my looks as the excuse for your refusal to dance."

She was ready to continue, but he broke in again and mockingly asked, "Are you after an apology? Was your vanity hurt?"

He was surprised at her light laugh. "Not particularly," she replied, and he could see she was speaking the truth. "I am merely curious why you responded as you did, and why you have rebuffed every friendly gesture of welcome offered by my neighbors with what could only be considered _**extreme**_ rudeness. The person who told me of your arrogance said it was your way of making yourself feel more important, putting down the rest of the world to make yourself feel better, but he was not someone who could be trusted. In addition, you do not seem to be affected by your own rudeness in a way that makes his explanation plausible. There is some deeper reason and I am simply curious about it. I like to understand complex characters and motivations, you see."

He was surprised by her answer as well, but offense took precedence. "With whom have you been discussing **my** affairs and why?"

"George Wickham. He seemed to feel you had wronged him and blighted his life," she replied in a tone of slight derision. "He could not be silenced on the topic, so I have heard a great deal about you, although I never thought I would meet you in person."

Darcy felt a slight sense of panic at the name, although he hoped it was hidden. "Is he here?" he asked quickly.

"Oh, no," she said with another light laugh. "He is the kind of scoundrel who would be quickly run out of _**this**_ village." She continued more seriously, "I met him in London, at a dance, in fact. He thought at first that I was an heiress, and he had a lucrative marriage on his mind. When he learned his mistake, he attempted to get up a flirtation instead. By then, I had the measure of his character and suggested he find someone else to bother."

"You were lucky," he said thoughtfully. "Not everyone penetrates his lies in time. I, myself, was blinded to his nature for far longer than I ought to have been."

"He said you played together as boys. If true, that could account for it. As children, we are not as discerning and can hold onto childhood friendships with a tenacity that defies logic."

He nodded slightly. "I suppose so." He fell silent, seeming to watch the dancers on the floor, although it was clear he saw nothing of them. Miss Elizabeth waited silently. She appeared to believe sh might learn something of the man's character if she was willing to let him go at his own pace and, clearly, she had nothing better to do until the next set started up.

Laughing, talking people moved around the sides of the dance floor, cheering the dancers on. The music ebbed and flowed in the rhythms of the tune. People clapped and the sounds of the dancing feet on the boards seemed abnormally loud.

"I am in a foul mood this evening," he said, talking more to himself than her. "I did not wish to come at all, but I felt the only other option was even more objectionable."

No response seemed appropriate, so Miss Elizabeth continued to wait. A moment later, her patience was rewarded.

"I would like to wring George Wickham's neck!" he said forcefully, but still in very quiet tones.

"A sentiment I am certain many share," she commented. "I take it you have far more reason than his comments about your arrogance and his whinging about all the supposed wrongs you have done to him?"

"That is nothing to me at all," Darcy said stiffly. "**He** has wronged me and mine in far more material ways. I _**should**_ have taken steps to blight his life when I had the chance. The more fool me that I did not."

"From what I have heard of his proclivities, I cannot imagine a more deserving target," she agreed softly. Anything else they might have said was interrupted by a feminine squeal and louder than normal laughter from two girls nearby.

Miss Elizabeth sighed. "Pray excuse me. I must go deal with my own personal sources of embarrassment," she said. With a polite curtsy, she turned and headed off in that direction.

Darcy watched Miss Elizabeth go over to the two girls who had obviously had too much punch. They were making a display of themselves on the dance floor with their noise and uncoordinated movements. If his memory from the boisterous round of introductions that Sir William Lucas had provided earlier was correct, they were her sisters. His initial feeling of contempt was replaced with the memory that his own sister was not exactly a paragon of virtue either, even if he was unlikely to ever see her in such a state at a public event - or a private one, for that matter. "George Wickham!" he quietly spat out the name as if it was a curse.

As he watched, Miss Bennet said something to her sisters' dance partners, who stepped away, allowing her to steadfastly pull the two resisting girls from the dance floor. Only their inebriated condition made it possible, he thought. One of them, probably the younger, was a particularly sturdy girl and even drunk she still put up a very good fight. He could hear her complaints from where he stood.

"But, Lizzy! I was dancing!" the stout girl whined in a slurred voice.

Miss Elizabeth made some retort, but she spoke quietly, and her words were swallowed by the noise of the room. He noticed the other guests parted before her, with no more reaction than small shakes of the head at the state the younger girls were in.

"Do you need any help landing those trout, Miss Lizzy?" one young man, who was probably a little drunk himself, called out. Again, her response was too quiet for Darcy to hear, but he noticed it was said with a smile and a laugh. He admired her demeanor in what must be a humiliating moment.

Miss Elizabeth had almost reached a corner of the room near the door when an older woman Darcy thought was their mother came bustling up, making fussing and fretting noises like a huge chicken frightened from a meal of fresh corn. The comparison was completed by the great mass of feathers that bobbed over her head, consisting of several fluffy white ones and crowned by an extra-large, black-and-white, curling ostrich feather, attached to a beaded headband wrapped around her tousled and curled white-blonde hair. He thought she would chastise the two younger girls, but instead, her target appeared to be Miss Elizabeth.

"How dare you drag your sisters from the dance floor, Lizzy!" he heard the woman screech. He flinched at the sound, but he noticed Miss Elizabeth seemed both unsurprised and unaffected by the sharp tones. She was clearly explaining the state her sisters were in, but Mrs. Bennet interrupted.

"That is no business of yours, Missy! What will Mr. Bingley think of us after the exhibition you have made?"

Miss Elizabeth turned in such a way that he was finally able to read her lips, more or less, along with being able to now better hear her voice. He thought she replied, "What would he or any of his party think of the outrageous way _these two_ were behaving on the dance floor? You worry about **me** scaring him away from Jane? If we leave my sisters to their own devices, they will scare off every man in a ten-mile radius."

She had a definite point, Darcy thought. **He** would certainly warn his friend away from any woman who had such wild siblings. Then he checked himself. Of course, the eldest Miss Bennet also had Miss Elizabeth as a sister. Despite their earlier confrontation, it was clear Miss Elizabeth knew how to behave properly in company. More than that, she was obviously trying to check the behavior of the younger girls while receiving no assistance from her mother.

As he considered things, he concluded that Miss Elizabeth had better manners than he did, certainly. His conscience pricked him as he realized the truth of her statement about how his behavior was more embarrassing to his friend than supportive of him. No one in this hall deserved to be the recipient of his foul mood. His thoughts were interrupted by another shriek and a series of clucks from the chicken-woman.

"Just because _**you**_have no idea how to have fun is no reason your sisters cannot! Let them go this instant! If it were not so late in the evening, I would send you home now and have the carriage return for us after the ball."

"It is late," Darcy thought he made out Miss Elizabeth saying, "and perhaps we **all** should head home now."

The more delicate of the two girls she still held made Miss Elizabeth's point as she emitted a loud groan. The girl's free hand flew to her mouth and she bent over in a way that made Darcy certain she was about to cast up her accounts. Miss Elizabeth moved quickly, dropping the other girl's hand and pulling the affected sister over to a decorative vase near a pillar, pressing the girl's head down over the mouth of the vase just in time. She held the girl's ringlets up and out of the way with one hand while gently patting her back with the other.

Heedless of her sister's illness, the sturdy girl wobbled her way back towards the dance floor, encouraged by her mother's exhortations to have as much fun as she wanted. The older two girls must have learned their manners from someone other than their mother. He suddenly remembered there was a fifth girl. Idly, he wondered which side of the spectrum she fell on.

The delicate girl soon finished being sick. She stood and leaned against her sister unsteadily as Miss Elizabeth wiped her face with a handkerchief before motioning to a servant to take away the vase for cleaning.

The footman who responded looked as if this was not the first unpleasant cleaning task that he had been required to do that night, although his expression brightened a bit as Miss Elizabeth graciously thanked him. It was not necessary. Servants were there to serve, after all. However, Darcy's father had often reminded him not to take the service of others for granted, and it was clear Miss Elizabeth felt the same.

With that thought came the realization that he had strayed _**very**_ far from his father's teachings on how to deal with other people. As Miss Elizabeth had pointed out, his behavior that evening had been rude in the extreme and it _**was**_ largely due to arrogance. Right behind that thought came another that almost rocked him off his feet. His behavior had proven George Wickham _**right**_ about him! For a moment, he thought he might need the use of that vase the servant had just carried off.

He calmed his thoughts by looking back at Miss Elizabeth. She comforted her sister in a way that showed love even if she obviously did not approve of the younger girl's actions. Darcy found himself wishing his own sister, fifteen-year-old Georgiana Darcy, had someone who could comfort her in the same way. He had tried, but somehow everything he said or did seemed to make his sister feel worse, even if the love was there on both sides.

As the situation with Miss Elizabeth and her sister had unfolded, Darcy had unconsciously moved closer to the Bennet sisters. Now, he was close enough to hear Miss Elizabeth hail another young woman who appeared about the same age as the delicate sister.

"Maria, Kitty is feeling very ill and I would prefer not to leave her on her own. I wonder if you might find Mary and Jane to let them know we need to leave a little early?"

"Of course, Lizzy," the girl replied. "With as much punch as I have seen Kitty drink this evening, it is no surprise she feels poorly." She hurried off to run Miss Elizabeth's errand.

The final comment could have been judgmental, Darcy thought, but instead it had been spoken kindly and even with some pity. He thought it likely the two younger girls were friends.

Miss Kitty still leaned heavily against her sister's shoulder and seemed to be having some trouble standing. Spotting some lightweight chairs against the wall, Darcy retrieved two and carried them to the young women. Miss Elizabeth looked at him gratefully as he helped her steady Miss Kitty and get her safely seated.

Once they had the younger girl in place, he said, "Miss Bennet, is there any other help I might provide for you?"

He was as surprised as she by the words that had come out of his mouth, but he had meant the offer sincerely. After staring at him silently for a moment, she appeared to realize this. Cocking her head to the side slightly, she regarded him as if she had a request but was not quite sure if she really could ask it of him.

"Think of it as an apology…or penance," he said with charm he had not even known he had, accompanied by an unaccustomed smile.

She took a deep breath as if drawing in her courage. Miss Kitty moaned slightly as she swayed in her seat, and the matter was decided.

"If I may take you at your offer, sir, I could use some of that frosty rudeness you showed earlier this evening. My mother indulges my youngest sister, Lydia, beyond all reason. The two of them will not wish to leave before the very last dance is done even if Lydia is barely able to keep her feet. As you no doubt heard, my _**mother**_ wishes to promote a match between my older sister and Mr. Bingley." She hastily added, "You need have no fear for your friend. Jane would never seek to entrap him no matter what Mama wishes."

"Thank you for the reassurance, Miss Elizabeth. How can my rudeness serve you?" Darcy found himself amused at even asking the question. This certainly was the oddest evening he had experienced in some time.

She looked at him conspiratorially and said, "Well, if you, as Mr. Bingley's friend, were to point out to my mother that he would not be pleased to see the sister of any woman in which he might be interested in such a shameful state of drunkenness, it _might_ prompt her to be willing to head home. If that does not do the trick, you could tell her quite baldly that if she chooses to remain here with her daughters instead of retiring at once, you will use your influence and counsel your friend to stay as far away from the Bennet family as possible." Her voice dropped and she added as a sort of an afterthought while looking off at the dance floor, "Of course, I expect you will anyway, but you may as well use that to get her out of here."

He understood the wistful look and asked, "Your older sister will not allow herself to be pushed unduly by your mother if she does not feel true affection for my friend as they continue to meet in company?"

She shook her head. "Jane may seem soft and yielding, but she does not swerve from what she knows is right. Mama can never overrule that."

Darcy saw the girl she had called Maria talking with a young woman sitting at the opposite wall who bore some resemblance to Miss Elizabeth and Miss Kitty, although she was not as pretty as the other two. He assumed that must be Miss Mary Bennet. His attention was caught by Mrs. Bennet and Miss Lydia, who had nearly bowled over one of the men watching the dance from the side as the girl swayed with the music.

"I shall give your mother my frostiest glare," he said with a bow and then headed over to do just that. He thought he heard Miss Elizabeth sigh with relief as he did. It must be a challenge to have such a mother.

Mrs. Bennet clucked and cackled under her bobbing feathers as Darcy tried the first argument Miss Elizabeth had suggested. "Oh, my Lydia is a high-spirited girl and very pretty, too. It is no wonder you are interested in her," Mrs. Bennet said, obviously not comprehending him. "A new set is just about to form. You should dance with Lydia, Mr. Darcy. She is so much prettier than Lizzy. Surely my youngest is handsome enough to tempt you!"

Darcy felt as if he had been slapped on hearing his own insulting words thrown back in his face in such a manner, aside from disgust at Mrs. Bennet's pushy manner. He swallowed the bile that rose in his throat and replied frostily, "Your youngest daughter is not _**lively**_, Mrs. Bennet, she is _**drunk**_! Both her condition and her current behavior disgrace her, you and all her sisters. What _**respectable**_ man would wish to dance with a girl so far in her cups she can barely stand?"

As if to prove his point, Lydia swayed, giggling loudly, and nearly fell over into him. Darcy decided to be even more forceful since Mrs. Bennet seemed incapable of response. She stood staring at him, flapping her mouth open and closed, wide-eyed and feathers aquiver.

"You should send for your carriage at once, Mrs. Bennet, before your family is permanently disgraced. I know** I** would counsel my friend Mr. Bingley to stay **far** **away** from _**any**_ young woman whose sisters behave in such an unladylike manner. I would be even more emphatic in my influence when they receive encouragement, not censure from their mother for their behavior."

Although clearly not all his words were understood, something made its way into the chicken-woman's mind. "You would influence Mr. Bingley **against** Jane if we do not go home?" she asked pitifully, horror in her eyes.

"I most certainly would do so. In fact, _**it will be my duty**_ if you choose to remain here tonight," he confirmed in his sternest tones.

With her eyes still filled with horror at the thought, Mrs. Bennet turned to her daughter. "Come along, Lydia, dear. We must go home at once as Mr. Darcy says." She began to hustle her befuddled daughter in the direction of the door, talking all the while. "Oh, there are Lizzy and Kitty. I must find Mary and Jane."

"Miss Elizabeth has already taken care of notifying Miss Mary and Miss Bennet," Darcy said politely. "If you wish to wait with Miss Elizabeth and Miss Kitty, I will send for your carriage."

"Oh, yes. Yes. The carriage. I nearly forgot," she gabbled out with what, from her manner, she must have assumed was a flirtatious giggle. Then, she turned to him with a look that brought Miss Elizabeth to mind. "You will not warn Mr. Bingley away now, will you?" she asked.

"No, Mrs. Bennet," he said with a slight bow. "After all, you are taking the proper steps to see your daughters safely home."

She nodded and began to herd her very unsteady daughter towards the chairs where her other daughters sat, primarily by flapping her arms to shoo Miss Lydia forward. With the amount of white lace draped over her shoulders, combined with the movements of the feathers, she looked more than ever like a frightened chicken.

After seeing Mrs. Bennet on her way, Darcy looked around for a servant so he could order the family's carriage brought round. As he did, he was surprised to feel a hearty clout on his shoulder. He turned to see one of the local men smiling at him.

"Well, played, Mr. Darcy. There is little that can sway Mrs. Bennet when her youngest is on pleasure bent. She is not one for taking hints, you see."

Swallowing his first feeling of offense at the familiar behavior, Darcy replied, "Miss Elizabeth suggested the text of my sermon."

The other man laughed freely. "Ah, she does try, that one. A good girl is our Miss Lizzy. You should not have insulted her as you did earlier, but I would say this makes up for it."

"Is Mr. Bennet here tonight?" Darcy asked, wondering if he had forgotten the introduction just as he had forgotten the name of the man in front of him.

"No, not likely," the man chuckled. "Him give up a quiet night with a book for all the noise and bother of the ballroom? Very rare!"

"Then I had best go send for Mrs. Bennet's carriage as I said I would."

The man stopped him with a gesture. "Here, let me." He waved over a footman calling, "Harvey – go have the Bennet carriage readied, quick as you can." The footman nodded and sped off while several people within earshot made approving comments.

"I am Tyler Goulding, by the way," the man said. "My estate is Goulding's Landing. We are on the river, as you can probably guess. We were introduced earlier, but I do not think you were paying much attention."

Darcy colored slightly. He admitted, "You may be right, Mr. Goulding. Thank you for your help."

"Any time. Especially for something like this." The jovial man smiled broadly. "The Bennets are good folks, do not get me wrong. And the oldest girls are true gems. Mrs. Bennet, however, well, a little bit of her chatter goes a long way, if you know what I mean. It has always been so, ever since she was a tiny mite of a girl toddling around talking everyone's ear off. Her youngest is just like her, poor child. Thank heavens for Gardiner and his wife. They have given the older girls proper manners right enough."

"Gardiner?" Darcy asked. "Is that another introduction I missed?"

Mr. Goulding laughed again. "No, not tonight. Edward Gardiner is Fanny Bennet's younger brother. He chose not to follow his father into the law, having more of a taste for business than just copying contracts and settling wills. He lives in London with his wife and young children and has made a proper success of himself. Miss Jane and Miss Lizzy have spent a good deal of time in his household. Mrs. Gardiner is a proper gentlewoman, even if her husband has chosen to be a merchant. Now, I hope you won't be holding it against those girls that they have an uncle doing well for himself in trade?"

With a slight start, Darcy realized he probably would have if he had learned of it in any other way. He also realized the hypocrisy he would indulge in if he did.

"No, sir," he told Mr. Goulding. "My friend Mr. Bingley has connections to trade as well and is proud of them. I see no shame in _honest_ gains be they from trade or tenant rents."

Mr. Goulding nodded, swaying enough as he did to suggest he had taken on a good bit of alcohol that evening himself. "You will do, after all, Mr. Darcy. We worried at first that poor Mr. Bingley was as unlucky in his friends as he was in his family. Good Lord! Those sisters of his are stuck-up terrors and the brother-in-law was insensible when he arrived and has grown no better as the evening has gone on. We thought you were a prime species of arrogant so and so, but just now you have shown yourself a decent human after all."

It was an impertinent speech, and Darcy knew the man's tipsy state played a role. All the same, he felt unaccountably a little better for learning he was no longer as much of an embarrassment to his friend as Miss Elizabeth had declared him to be.

"_In vino veritas,"_ he thought, agreeing with the philosopher that wine or other alcohol freed the tongue and made the truth come out. Since his conversation partner was in a talkative mood, Darcy decided to ask an important question.

"Is my friend safe around the oldest Miss Bennet?"

Mr. Goulding looked at him knowingly. "I suppose that depends on what you mean by safe. She is a very handsome young woman after all, and very good-natured. More than one man has lost his head or heart to her. She will not try to entrap your friend, though, if that is your concern, no matter what Mrs. Bennet might want."

"Thank you," Darcy replied. "That is what I was trying to learn."

He looked over at Miss Elizabeth, who had now been joined by all her sisters. She had given up her own chair to Miss Lydia and pulled another over for Mrs. Bennet, whose feathers continued to wave and bob over her forehead as she chattered on. Bingley was there as well, still hovering around Miss Jane Bennet. He took a good look at the eldest sister. As Bingley had said earlier, she was uncommonly pretty. As he compared the two together, though, Darcy found he preferred Miss Elizabeth's darker coloring, lively expression and fine eyes. He had been an idiot to pronounce her as not handsome enough to tempt him. In fact, Darcy had the feeling he was going to be a _**long**_ time living that statement down.

Just now, he could tell Miss Elizabeth was becoming annoyed with both Bingley and her mother. Wishing Mr. Goulding a good evening, Darcy walked over to the group. As he neared, he began to understand and share Miss Elizabeth's frustration.

"But Mr. Darcy was most insistent that we had best go home," Mrs. Bennet was saying. Bingley must have been making excuses for the younger girls as he wished for more time to spend with Miss Bennet.

"Indeed, you must, Mrs. Bennet," Darcy said firmly as he joined them. "Miss Lydia can barely stand up on her own, and Miss Kitty looks very ill indeed. She really should be resting in her own bed and the sooner you get both girls home, the better. Why would you even _**consider**_ staying here with them in such poor condition?" he asked, directing a very dirty look at his friend.

On catching the expression, along with the words, Bingley's eyes widened as if he had only just then suddenly understood the situation. When Mrs. Bennet began to say something about how the evening was not over and it was a shame for Jane to leave so soon, Bingley interrupted her before Darcy could.

"Oh, no, Mrs. Bennet. It is not right to force your younger daughters to remain in such a crowded and noisy environment. They need the comfort and quiet of home as soon as possible."

"Oh, well, if you are certain, Mr. Bingley," the matron began, her feathers quivering as if to show her indecision.

"Don' wan' go home! Wanna dance!" Lydia slurred out loudly.

She attempted to rise, but Miss Elizabeth held her in place with a firm grip on her shoulders. That did not stop her flailing her arms and hitting Miss Kitty, who groaned and would have slipped off the chair if Miss Mary had not steadied her.

Mrs. Bennet's feathers quivered more violently, but Darcy could still see no indication of shame or worry over the behavior of her daughters, just indecision over whether to give in to her favorite daughter's desire to stay, which would also allow more time for her oldest daughter to spend with Bingley. The alternative, to give in to his own advice, now seconded by Bingley was much less attractive to her.

"There will be other evenings, Mrs. Bennet," Bingley offered helpfully. Darcy was thankful his friend was now pushing the point.

"Oh, yes," Mrs. Bennet said, some of her indecision dropping away. "And you must call on us. In fact, you must come to dinner! You may bring all of your party." She shot a nervous look at Darcy before she continued, "Would Tuesday night be acceptable? I can send an invitation to your sister tomorrow."

Bingley turned a look on the oldest Miss Bennet that clearly indicated he was smitten. Smiling, he replied, "Tuesday would be most acceptable. And of course, my sisters and I will call on you. Tomorrow, if you wish. We will see you at church the day after, as well."

"Oh, yes. Yes." Mrs. Bennet said, clapping her hands happily and causing the ostrich feather to bob down almost in front of her eyes with the enthusiasm of her nods.

Darcy turned his eyes from the Bennet matron and caught Miss Elizabeth looking at him curiously. She seemed to be waiting for him to object. Normally, of course, he would have. For tonight at least though, he was determined not to be the arrogant, judgmental man George Wickham had described to her. He offered Miss Elizabeth a slight smile, the merest lifting of the lips and lightening of the tension around his eyes. Her expression of question and concern softened slightly in response. With the slightest of nods, she then turned to check on Miss Kitty while still firmly keeping Miss Lydia in her chair.

The youngest sister had continued to insist in broken, sometimes unintelligible phrases that she wanted to stay and dance instead of going home. Her words, however, were dropping to more of a mumble after the first strong outburst.

The servant Mr. Goulding had sent for the Bennet carriage was approaching the group, Darcy noticed. That seemed reason enough to interrupt Mrs. Bennet's effusions over having the Netherfield party come to dinner.

"Mrs. Bennet, I believe your carriage is ready. My friend and I shall see you out. Do you require any assistance?" He directed the last statement more to Miss Elizabeth than to her mother.

Miss Elizabeth did not answer aloud, but she looked with concern towards both her sisters. Darcy foresaw that they would probably have to drag Miss Lydia from the room once they got her standing, and he doubted Miss Kitty would be able to walk at all. Before Miss Elizabeth could speak, he turned to his friend.

"Bingley, would you assist Miss Bennet in helping Miss Lydia out while Miss Mary tends to her mother? Miss Elizabeth and I will help Miss Kitty."

Even as Bingley agreed, Darcy caught a look from Miss Mary that indicated she was certainly not happy with her assignment. "_Well, let her hate me,_" he thought. Someone had to propel Mrs. Bennet from the room and it was likely Miss Kitty and, potentially, Miss Lydia would need to be carried.

Miss Elizabeth released her hold on Miss Lydia so Bingley and Miss Bennet could take on their charge. Together, the two got the girl on her feet. Miss Lydia lurched and swayed, trying to head back to the dance floor. Her guardians had hard work to head her off towards the door where a servant waited with the ladies' wraps. Unsteady as she was, her determination kept her going.

Darcy was distracted by watching their noisy, winding progress for a moment. He turned back to Miss Elizabeth to find her trying to rouse Miss Kitty from her stupor enough to help her up.

"If you have no objection, Miss Elizabeth," he said, "it might be easier for all concerned if I carry Miss Kitty to your carriage. Will you have someone at your home who can bring her inside?"

"One of the footmen or my father's manservant can help us get her in. Thank you, Mr. Darcy. I would appreciate your help with Kitty."

With little effort, but an internal prayer of thanks it was _**this**_ sister he needed to carry and not the other one, Darcy lifted Miss Kitty in his arms. Miss Elizabeth quickly made certain her sister's gown draped decently around her before leading Darcy to the doorway.

The other guests moved aside to let them pass. Some made comments at the sight, but Darcy heard none that were cruel, which surprised him. Even more surprising, for some reason, was hearing a number of comments that were complimentary to himself.

Despite her annoyance with the assignment, Miss Mary managed to get her mother quickly to the door, although getting her into her wrap and to the carriage was proving more challenging. Miss Elizabeth took advantage of her mother's delay to usher Darcy forward so they could get Miss Kitty situated in the vehicle first. She accepted her wrap and her sister's from the servant in passing, without bothering to put them on, instead just gesturing for Darcy to keep moving.

Once arrived at the vehicle, she suggested Darcy place the nearly insensible girl into the far corner on the backward-facing bench. This way she could be propped up by the back and side walls and would not be in the way of her mother's favorite seat facing forward.

"Thank you, again, Mr. Darcy," Miss Elizabeth said as he backed out of the carriage and offered his hand to help her in. "You have been of significant assistance in several ways."

He was pleased to see her first act was to cover her sister with the wrap. Miss Elizabeth had swung her own wrap over her shoulders on the way to the carriage. Now she pulled it close before sitting down next to her sister in order to help keep her upright during the trip home.

Darcy had no chance to acknowledge her thanks because Miss Mary had finally herded her mother to the carriage. As effective as she had proven, he could see the middle sister might still need some help finishing the job. Ignoring the flow of words from the Bennet matron, who was still wondering aloud if leaving was a good idea, Darcy took her by the arm and almost shoved her into the carriage. Mrs. Bennet dropped into her seat opposite Miss Kitty with a surprised exclamation and a wild fluttering of feathers. Idly, Darcy wondered how they stayed affixed to her hair or headdress all night, with as much waving as they did. He knew some ladies glued them to their hair, but these would need very strong glue to do the job.

Shaking his head slightly to clear the thought, he turned to Miss Mary. Providing her with much more gentle assistance, he handed her up into the spot next to her mother. Then he looked back to discover what had delayed the rest of the party.

Bingley and Miss Bennet had gotten as far as the door, but there Miss Lydia chose to make her stand. She stubbornly refused to put on her wrap or leave the building. Due to the quantity of punch she had imbibed, her movements were wild and uncoordinated, but her determination was unabated. Neither of her guardians could cope with her thrashing limbs and sudden, lurching changes of direction. Their hesitance to deal firmly with Miss Lydia was clear.

Darcy felt no such hesitation. He strode back to them, caught Miss Lydia by the shoulders and directed Miss Bennet to fasten the wrap around her sister. Once that was done, he let go of the girl's shoulders and caught hold of her flailing hands long enough for Bingley and Miss Bennet to each gain possession of one arm. Letting go of her hands, he slipped around behind Miss Lydia and, taking hold of her shoulders again, he firmly propelled her towards the carriage while using his grip to keep her upright when she swayed and stumbled.

In short order, they reached the vehicle. Directing the other two to let go, he caught Miss Lydia by the waist as she was wavering off balance with the loss of her other supports, and he boosted her inside. Miss Elizabeth was waiting. She gave her sister's arm a quick jerk and pulled her into place on the bench. Miss Lydia landed with a little shriek. Immediately, she started to struggle again, attempting to get back out, but Miss Elizabeth threw an arm across Miss Lydia, grabbed the travel strap close to the door and firmly held her sister in place, trapping Miss Lydia's arms to her sides by the same motion.

Miss Bennet seemed disposed to linger, and Bingley to encourage it, but Darcy broke into their conversation while offering his hand to assist the final Bennet sister into the carriage. "You need to leave now before your sister can break free."

Despite her surprise at the comment, she acquiesced without argument. It was the work of only a moment before Miss Bennet was also inside, behind a securely closed door. Darcy directed the coachman to go, which the man did without question. They could still hear Miss Lydia's incoherent protests and their mother's distress over leaving as the carriage rolled away.


End file.
